Merry Tales. Eleanor L. Skinner
began their humble meal immediately, and the husband continued: “Of course one of our wishes must be great riches. What do you say?”
“Oh, yes, indeed,” said his wife. “I should love a beautiful house to live in, also carriages and fine clothes, and servants and—”
“Oh, for that matter,” said the husband, “we could wish for an empire.”
“Or rich jewels, such as great numbers of pearls and diamonds! What a wish that would be,” said the wife, whose face was all aglow.
“I have it,” burst forth the woodman, “let us wish for a fine large family, five sons and five daughters, What say you to that?”
“Oh!” returned his wife, “I think I prefer six sons and four daughters.”
So they continued weighing one wish with another until they seemed almost in despair about coming to a decision regarding which three wishes would be the wisest and best. They finally stopped talking and ate their simple food in silence. The woodcutter did not seem to relish his soup and dry bread.
“Oh,” he cried out suddenly, “how I wish I had some nice savory sausage for dinner!” No sooner had the words fallen from his lips than a large dish of fine sausages appeared on the table. What a surprise! The two were so astonished that for a few moments they could not speak. Then the wife said impatiently:
“What do you mean by making such a foolish wish? Do you not see that this dish of sausage means that one wish has been granted and that there are but two left? How could you make such a stupid, stupid wish?”
“Well,” replied the husband, “to be sure I have been foolish. I really did not think what I was saying. However, we may still wish for great riches and an empire.”
“Humph!” grumbled the wife, “we may wish for riches and an empire, but what about a fine large family? You have certainly been foolish in wishing for that horrid sausage. I suppose, however, you prefer sausage to a fine family;” and she burst out into tears of lamentation, crying: “How could you? How could you be so foolish? Oh, dear! Oh, dear! How very foolish and stupid you have been.”
Finally her husband lost all patience and cried out: “I’m tired of your grumbling! I wish the sausage were on the end of your nose!”
In an instant the sausage was fastened to the end of the poor woman’s nose. How comical she did look! The husband and wife were so astonished that they could not speak. The poor woman again burst into tears.
“Oh!” she cried. “How could you? How could you? First, you wished for sausage, and second, you wished that the sausage were fastened to my poor nose. It is terrible. It is cruel. Two wishes have been granted. There remains but one! Oh, dear, dear!”
The husband, who now saw what a dreadful mistake he had made, said meekly,
“We may still wish for great riches.”
“Riches indeed!” snapped his wife. “Here I am with this great sausage fastened to the end of my nose. What good would riches do me? How ridiculous I am. It is all your fault. I was so happy at the thought of great riches, beautiful jewels, and a fine family, and now I am sad and miserable.” She continued to weep so pitifully that her husband’s heart was touched.
“I wish with all my heart that the sausage were not on your nose,” he said. In an instant the sausage disappeared. There the two sat lamenting; but as the three wishes had been granted there is nothing further to be said.
THE PIGTAIL
There lived a sage in days of yore,
And he a handsome pigtail wore;
But wondered much and sorrowed more
Because it hung behind him.
He mused upon the curious case,
And vowed he’d change the pigtail’s place,
And have it hanging at his face,
Not dangling there behind him.
Says he, “The mystery I’ve found.
I’ll turn me round,”—He turned him round—
But still it hung behind him.
Then round and round and out and in,
All day the puzzled sage did spin
In vain; it mattered not a pin,
The pigtail hung behind him.
And up and down and in and out
He turned, but still the pigtail stout
Hung dangling there behind him;
And though his efforts never slack,
And though he twist and twirl and tack,
Alas! still faithful to his back
The pigtail hangs behind him.
THE STONE LION
Once there were two brothers who lived with their mother in a large house on a farm. Their father was dead. The older brother was clever and selfish, but the younger was kind and gentle. The older brother did not like the younger because he was so honest that he never could get the best of a bargain. One day he said to him: “You must go away. I cannot afford to support you any longer.”
So the younger brother packed all his belongings, and went to bid his mother good-by. When she heard what the older brother had done, she said, “I will go with you, my son. I will not live here any longer with so hard-hearted a man as your brother.”
The next morning the mother and the younger brother started out together. Toward night when they reached the foot of the hill, they came to a hut with nothing in it except an ax which stood behind the door. But they managed to get their supper and stayed in the hut all night.
In the morning they saw that on the side of the hill near the hut was a great forest. The son took the ax, went up on the hillside and chopped enough wood for a load to carry to the town on the other side of the hill. He easily sold it, and with a happy heart brought back food and some clothing to make his mother and himself comfortable.
“Now, mother,” he said, “I can earn enough to keep us both, and we shall be happy here together.”
One day, in search of timber, the boy went farther up the hill than he had ever gone before. As he climbed up the steep hillside, he suddenly came upon a lion carved from stone.
“Oh,” thought the boy, “this must be the guardian spirit of the mountain. I will make him some offering to-morrow morning without fail.”
That night he bought two candles and carried them to the lion. He lighted them, put one on each side of the lion, and asked that his own good fortune might continue.
As he stood there, suddenly, the lion opened his great stone mouth and said:
“What are you doing here?”
The boy told him how cruel the elder brother had been; how the mother and himself had been obliged to leave home and live in a hut at the foot of the hill.